Edmund- Last (sane) Man Standing
by WhoNeedsReality
Summary: When you're surrounded by 3 mad siblings, a bratty cousin, a country ruled by a lion and a guy with a fake Spanish accent, there's always something to make Edmund feel like the last sane person on earth. Funny sketches and parodies of canonical scenes, starring Edmund. Set in movie-verse, LWW, PC and VotD. Lots of crack and silliness, please R&R!
1. Chapter 1: The Dictionary Game

**AN: Hello, earthlings! Now, Edmund is my favourite Narnia character ever, I love him! And I began to wonder, he has such a crazy family and life, what's it like, being the only seemingly same person around? And thus, this fic was born...**

**And now, Ed will do the disclaimer for me...**

**Edmund: Yeah, *cough cough* no.**

**Alright then... I don't own any part of the Chronicles of Narnia. Except Edmund.**

**Edmund: No, you don't. Can I go now?**

Rain fell in torrential sheets, washing the countryside in pools of mud, and drowning dozens of insects, all screaming for their wives and children. The four glum faces of the Pevensie siblings stared out of one of the fancier windows in Professor Kirke's majestic country house.

"I'm booooooored..." sighed Lucy, cupping her chin in her hands.

"It's alright, Lu!" her eldest brother reassured her. "We can play my really super-dooper fun rivetingly exciting game!"

"Okay!" Lucy cried, perking up immediately. "What is it?"

"Well, how it works is, I take a dictionary, right? And then I pick a word, yeah?"

His siblings leaned forward, eagerly awaiting the point of the game.

Peter continued. "And _then_, you have to guess what the word means!" He sat back, looking pleased with himself.

"Oh Pete!" cried Lucy. "That sounds wonderful!"

"It's sure to be brilliant," said Susan, smiling and looking generally pleased, patting her favourite sister on the head.

"Um... no offence Pete, but that sounds _really _boring. And just quite sad," said Edmund, wincing slightly at the eagerness with which his siblings seemed to welcome this ridiculous game.

Peter sniffed. "Well, really Ed! Trust you to be rude!"

"Yeah, Ed," whined Lucy, "you're such a _spoilsport_!"

"We're a family Ed," scolded Susan, "we stick together."

Edmund sighed, and took a step back, watching his brother and sisters comfort each other, and throw angry glances in his direction.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Edmund was lying on his back on the carpet, staring at the ceiling, wishing he was somewhere else, whilst Peter read words out of a colossal leather bound Latin dictionary.

"The next word is _insulsus_," announced Peter.

Lucy frowned, in deep concentration. "Does it mean... potato?" she guessed for the eighteenth time.

"Not quite," Peter said gently.

"Does it mean insult?" asked Susan, tentatively.

"Nope," grinned Peter, evidently enjoying himself.

Edmund groaned inwardly. At his age, he really should have somewhere more interesting to be. Even a mausoleum would work at this point.

"Your turn, Ed!"

He didn't bother sitting up to face Peter. "Is it Latin for... _boring_?"

"EDMUND!" yelled his brother, leaping up from the sofa. "I've had enough of you and your incessant rudeness!"

"He's right, you know!" cried Susan "You're just being intolerable!"

"Yeah, Ed," proclaimed Lucy, "you're _mean!_"

Edmund sighed, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. "Peter," he said slowly, "insulsus actually does mean 'boring' in Latin. Check the definition."

Peter glanced down at the dictionary. He pursed his lips, and gave an imperious sniffle. "Well," he spat, "you're still rude and intolerable!"

Edmund rolled his eyes.

**A.N: So, guys what do you think? Oh, I don't hate the others or anything, they're deliberately OOC for comedic effect! You can suggest scenes I could parody like this, if you like! If you enjoyed it, let me know in the reviews! If you didn't, let me know in the reviews! If you have no opinion, let me know in the reviews! Please, please, please, please, please, please REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2: Stranger Danger

**AN: Hello people, I'm not dead! Sadly not a lot of reviews TT_TT Ah well, thank you to Mr. Potato Head, who did review- this chapter's for you! Now for the disclaimer... hang on... OY EDMUND! DISCLAIMER TIME!**

**Ed: Will you go AWAY?!**

**Me: Nope! **

**Ed: !£&%*$" **

**Me: Alright then. I don't own the Chronicles of Narnia. But I do own-**

**Ed: Don't say it.**

Edmund stared around in disbelief. He was no longer in a moth-ridden wardrobe, with a furry coat on his face. He was in a beautiful forest, filled with pine trees, all covered in snow. Lucy hadn't got delusional problems after all! He called tentatively for his sister a few times, and after establishing that she wasn't there, he began to run a list in his head of how to work out what to do. He was just taking a mental inventory of his surroundings, when he heard a jingle of bells. He only just had time to register that the sleigh was not pulled by Rudolph, when he was knocked backwards into a snowdrift as it halted in front of him. Then a dwarf appeared, lashed at him with a whip, and poked him with a long knife.

"What is is now, Ginabrik?" asked an exasperated voice from the sleigh.

The voice sounded authoritative, so Edmund cried "make him let me go!"

"How dare you you address the queen of Narnia?" demanded the Dwarf in an awful, put-on accent the sounded like a failed attempt at something between German, Russian and American.

"I didn't know!" cried Edmund incredulously. Why did this Dwarf think a kid in a dressing gown would be so familiar with this country's politics? Besides, he couldn't even see the figure in the sleigh- it could have been a man, for all he knew.

The dwarf made some unintelligible threat in his terrible accent, and raised a knife. Before he brought it down on Edmund's face, the voice in the sleigh called "wait!"

_Really?_ thought Edmund, _you had to wait till the last possible second?_

When Edmund looked up, a tall, elegant woman with what could best be described as blonde dreadlocks, and a ridiculously pointy crown, wearing a sparkly blue dress that could not have been too comfortable, along with a dead polar bear, was standing in front of him. His first thought was _Lady Gaga_, followed by, _wait, who _is_ Lady Gaga?_ Nonetheless, the woman carried herself with a grace that Susan only thought she had, and Lucy could n ever have achieved. True, he had often seen Peter hold his head like that, tossing his hair in the same way, but the effect had been rather different then. So Edmund found this woman rather striking.

"What is your name?" she asked, icily.

"Um..." _Do. Not. Tell. Her _he thought, "Barry. My name's Barry."

"And how, Barry, did you come to enter my dominion?"

Edmund considered for a moment, then decided the truth was so weird that she'd never believe it. "I got in through a wardrobe."

The woman didn't bat an eyelid.

Edmund then realised something. If this woman was as dangerous as she seemed, he needed to avert the attention from himself... "I just followed my sister," he said, casually.

The woman stiffened. "How many of you are there?" she asked.

"Four," he replied, hoping she would find them easier prey.

"Edmund," she said, her voice almost lecherously gentle, "you look so cold! Allow me to warm you up... come sit with me!"

Edmund gulped. He didn't want to fall victim to paedophilia and kidnapping, but perhaps he could pull a double-bluff, make the lady think she'd ensnared him, then escape.

He squirmed as she led him to the sleigh, then nearly died of horror when she wrapped him into her coat.

"Would you like a hot drink?" she purred. Creepy, definitely creepy.

"Um... yes please... Your Majesty." Edmund stared as she dripped some green liquid onto the snow-covered ground, and a goblet full of a drink that was almost certainly spiked with Rehypnol appeared. Edmund pretended to sip it, careful not to let the liquid pass his lips. He wished the woman would stop smiling at him like that. He was way to young to be looked at like that.

"How about... something to eat?" she offered, in what was obviously supposed to be an enticing voice.

"Turkish Delight please, Your Majesty," said Edmund, naming the first food that came into his head.

Smiling, the lady took his goblet, threw it to the ground whence it turned into snow again, then using the same liquid, created a dish of Turkish Delight.

He bit into a piece, slowly, carefully. It tasted fine. He was still concious. So he grabbed another fistful and stuffed his face.

The woman was saying something about making him a king, blah blah blah, rooms full of turkish delight- yeah, right- and bringing his siblings to visit.

"Excuse me," asked Edmund, "but why do you want four children to visit your house?"

"I, uh, have no children of my own," she replied, her smile strained.

"Ri-i-i-iiii-i-ight," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well why else would- Oh dear God!" she yelped, raising a hand to her mouth, "you can't possibly be suggesting what I think you're suggesting!"

"Don't look so horrified," shrugged Edmund, "all I'm saying is, you've got a 10-year-old wrapped in your coat, you tried to feed me what I'm pretty sure was Rehypnol, and now you want me to bring my siblings to visit you in your home... what am I supposed to think?"

"Oh, for crying out loud," she yelled, "I would never do something so... wrong! I just wanted to lure the four of you to my palace to kill you so I could stop a prophecy which involves you four dethroning me!"

"Please," he groaned, "my siblings couldn't dethrone a queen bee if they wanted to, let alone you."

The witch looked him up-and-down. "You're smart," she said, "I need smart," she cast the dwarf a disgusted look, "take my card, if you're interested."

She fished out a white business card and handed it to him. Edmund pocketed it. "Well, bye then," he said, and leapt out of the sleigh. She rode off.

Edmund stood there for a moment. He glanced at the business card- as if he'd ever join her...

"EDMUND!" cried a happy eight-year-old, "oh goody goody, you got here too!"

The incessant chatter of his youngest sister shattered the once peaceful silence.

_On the other hand, _thought Edmund, fingering the card, _you shouldn't dismiss anything straight away._


	3. Chapter 3: Eager Beavers

**AN: Thank you so much to all you lovely people who reviewed! This piece of utter madness is for you!**

**Now, time for the disclaimer- it's okay, Edmund, stop waving the sword at me, we have a special guest doing the disclaimer today...**

**Lucy: HI ED!**

**Edmund: *giving me evil eyes* Why? WHY?**

**Me: I'm sorry, you weren't disclaiming... so I had to make you. Lucy, why don't you give your brother a cuddle?**

**Edmund: No, no, no, no, n-**

**Lucy: YAAAAAAY! *jumps on brother, noises of hitting, choking, strangling, and laughter***

**Me: Yep, I don't own a thing.**

The four children stared wide-eyed at the beaver.

"I thought they were supposed to be extinct in Britain," whispered Susan.

"Yeah, well, does this look like we're still in Britain to you?" hissed Edmund. His siblings were particularly irritating that day.

"Here boy, he-e-ere" called Peter to the beaver, making clicking noises with his mouth, his hand outstretched.

Promptly, the beaver waddled up to him. Peter was just beginning to look smug, when the beaver bit down hard on his hand.

"Argh!" he yelped, retracting his hand quickly.

Edmund grinned to himself.

The beaver stood back on it's hind legs. "That'll teach you to 'ave some respect!" he announced, in a voice like a trucker that smokes. He then pulled out a little lacy handkerchief. "Lucy Pevensie?" he asked.

"That's the hanky I gave to Mr. Tumnus," she whispered.

"Lucy!" cried Susan, a hurt expression on her face, "that's the handkerchief Peter and I gave you for Christmas!"

"Yeah," yelled Peter, "I embroidered it myself!"

Edmund exchanged a look with the Beaver.

"We can't talk 'ere," hissed the beaver, "come with me."

"He says he knows the faun!" cried Peter, "let's go!" Peter and his two sisters charged behind the beaver.

"Really?" called Edmund, after his siblings, "He claims to know the faun, so we follow him?"

"He has the handkerchief!" one of them yelled back.

"Because that proves _everything_." None of his siblings looked back. Edmund face-palmed, and trudged after them.

* * *

After his siblings had forced him to climb into what was effectively a pile of logs in the middle of a lake ("It's perfectly sturdy!" Peter had said, trying to kick the log that had snapped when he trod on it away from sight.), and then taken up all the chairs, Edmund found himself sat on a step, listening to Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, whilst playing with the fish on his plate. Even he hadn't the heart to tell his siblings that the fish was raw, not now they'd all finished every bite.

"There is a prophecy," said Mr. Beaver, "which is basically 'bout two 'uman lads an' two 'uman lasses ruling over Narnia, after defea'ing the White Witch."

"Aslan, the big lion who rules the forest," began Mrs. Beaver.

"Wow. A lion king of the jungle. Really original," muttered Edmund under his breath.

"Aslan is on the move!" announced the female Beaver, as though Edmund hadn't spoken.

"Hurrah!" cried his siblings.

"What exactly do you _mean_?" asked Edmund.

"He's gathering an army for you!" cried Mrs. Beaver happily, "I expect your big brother here will have to lead it!"

Whilst his sisters congratulated his extremely smug brother, Edmund blanched.

"You want Peter, _PETER_, to lead an army? With sharp things involved? Based on a prophecy we've never heard of?"

"Oh, shush Ed!" someone yelled.

Edmund thought grimly of the time Peter had tried to use a letter opener, and ended up stabbing himself in the kneecap. A sword probably wouldn't be much better. If Peter led an army in which Edmund would have to fight...

When no-one was looking, he slipped out of the door, and legged it towards the witch's house.


	4. Chapter 4: The Lion King

**AN: SQUUUUUEEEEEE! I love you guys that reviewed! You're amazing! Now, disclaimer time. Sadly, Edmund managed to withstand his sister's hugs, so I'm pulling out all the stops. Oh Eeeeeeedddddmmmmuuuuunnnnddd...**

**Ed: What?**

**Peter: Hello, dearest brother, I really do believe this nonsense has continued far too long and you really should just disclaim now!**

**Ed: I hate you both. *runs away with brother in pursuit***

**Oh well, I still own nothing.**

Edmund couldn't decide wether he was happier to be away from the witches camp, or more horrified to be reunited with his siblings, whom he could see standing near the foot of the hill he was on. However, looking into the amber eyes of the majestic Lion in front of him, those thoughts felt slightly insignificant.

"Welcome, son of Adam," spoke the lion, in a deep, wise voice.

"What's with the whole Son of Adam and Daughter of Eve thing?" asked Edmund.

The lion blinked.

"I mean, if we're all children of Adam and Eve, then every relationship in history has been incest, and everything would just be plain awkward. My name is Edmund, and I'm a boy, so enough with the Adam business!"

"Very well," sighed the Lion, "I suppose someone had to pick up on it eventually."

Edmund nodded. "So. You must be, I dunno, Son of Simba?"

The lion glared at him, as much as a lion can glare. "My name," he boomed, "is Aslan, ruler of Narnia."

Edmund stared unabashed at the big-cat.

Aslan heaved a sigh and continued. "I have given you your freedom, your redemption. I have forgiven your betrayal."

Edmund raised an eyebrow. "What's the catch?"

Aslan huffed. "There is no _catch_! My redemption is completely one-hundred percent no-strings-attached."

"Ri-i-ght," said Edmund, dragging the word out, his eyebrow disappearing under his fringe.

If lions could blush, Aslan did." I have a task for you, son of A- err, Edmund."

Edmund gave a terse nod. "Thought so."

"Your brother, Peter, is expected to lead the Narnian army to victory. He is to assume the position of High King."

"Peter? Good luck with that," Edmund snorted.

Together, lion and boy glanced down the hill where his siblings sat. Susan and Lucy were engaged in conversation. Peter had woven a daisy-chain tiara, tied his coat around his shoulders as a cloak, and was prancing around up and down the field, practicing a royal wave."

Aslan turned to the youngest Pevensie boy mournfully. "I'm very fond of my people," he sighed, voice pleading, "I can't hand them over to- to- to _that_!" he spat glancing at Peter.

Edmund ducked his head to swallow a laugh.

"Due to tradition of the eldest being High King, Peter will technically be the main leader," continued Aslan, "but I want you to understand... you're the brains of the operation. You are the kingmaker, and you are truly in charge. Can you promise me that?"

Edmund imagined a country run by Peter. "Oh yes," he said furtively, "when can I start?"


	5. Chapter 5: Spoils of War

**AN: Umm... yeah... hi. It's me again. I am soooooo sorry! I know it's been ages since I updated, but I'm back to school now, and I'm drowning in homework etc. But anyway, IAMSOHAPPY! It was my Bday Party recently, and my family plastered my room in Coldplay posters and printouts, and started blasting basically every Coldplay song known to man at full blast. That, people, is why family's are amazing. And to celebrate my birthday, family, and the release of Coldplay's new song "Atlas" (which, btw, is SUPERCALIFRAGILIZTICEXPIALIDOCIOUSLLY AMAZING! Seriously, everyone else is waiting for Catching Fire... I am waiting for the end credits, so I can stand up and sing along to Coldplay's latest masterpiece, waving a glowstick in the air) I am giving you all this update. But now... THE DISCLAIMER!**

**Edmund: Mmph! MMPHMMPHMMPH!**

**Me: I'm sorry, but I have to gag you until you agree to disclaim for me. Until then- I own nothing *winks at Edmund***

The blood rushed to Edmund's head, and his ears were thrumming. Carnage surrounded him, and beasts of every kind were engaged in battle around him. There was one sight more terrifying, more spine-chillingly, blood-curdlingly awful than any other... Peter trying to do battle. He had not killed a single enemy, but had managed to lame four fawns and a leopard, as well as shearing half of Orieus' tail off with his sword-flailing, and Edmund was trying hard to avoid him. The only thing that came close to being as dangerous to the Narnians as Peter was the White Witch, with her long, snow-white staff that turned every creature to cross it's path into stone.

Scanning and assessing the scene quickly, Edmund knew that if both Peter's diabolical combat _and_ the Witch's stonemasonry continued, the Narnians were as good as beaten. Tempting as it was, Edmund knew it would look bad if he took out his own brother, but getting rid of the Witch's staff- that was feasible. Ish.

He battled his way through the chaos, until, he was face-to-cruel-face with Jadis.

"So," she snarled, "it is the youngest son of Adam..." her voice tailed off and her expression softened, "the most handsome, intelligent one. Prepare to die!"

Edmund raised an eye. "Creep. And, uh, nope!" He slashed the staff in half with his sword. The witch roared in fury, and stabbed him beneath the lungs.

He gave a choke and dropped to his knees, breath ragged and shallow. From his new position- in a crumpled heap on the ground- he could see that Peter, realising his younger brother had fallen, was making his way over to him, and was, for some inexplicable reason, fighting in slow-motion.

Edmund closed his eyes, suddenly awash with serenity. There was an advantage to being dead- he wouldn't have to put up with Peter's idiocy. Or Susan's. Or Lucy's. And since he was dying for a noble cause, he would surely end up some place nice... peaceful...

"AAARGH! Bleargh, oh, lord, that is unholy!" Edmund sat up sharply, god knows how long later, after a stream of some horribly sharp, bitter-tasting liquid had been poured down his throat. "What _is _that?" he spluttered, "aconite? Arsenic? Hemlock? Because just so you know, I was dying very well on my- oof!"

His tirade was cut short when he was smothered in a truly terrible, choking, enveloping, claustrophobia-inducing, drowning, stranglehold hug. As his four siblings took up the chant: "Hurrah for Edmund!" he gazed longingly down at the gaping wound in his stomach. Peace had, yet again, slid from his grasp.

* * *

Edmund picked at the blue ceremonial robe nervously. His siblings stood next to him, all decked out in Narnian finery. Slowly, as the processional music began, and he and his siblings made their way to the thrones. They were each stood in front of a stone, and then waited to be crowned. Edmund couldn't help raising an eyebrow when Susan was crowned as "gentle." An image of her whacking Peter with a broom the time he borrowed her mascara danced in Edmund's head, but he kept his trap shut. This was harder to do when Lucy was named "valiant." This was the same girl who ran away howling every time Edmund corrected a spelling mistake of hers, claiming he was a big scary bully. Then it was his term. "_blah blah blah_, King Edmund the Just!"

"_What_?" cried Edmund, "are you serious? _I _am the epitome of _justice_ in Narnia? ME? I betrayed you all remember?" he cried, so confused he didn't care about hilighting his grievous betrayal, "and do you honestly believe," he continued, "that my sense of _justice_ is my most prominent quality? Can you name more than one instance where I've shown a sense of justice? Wisdom, maybe, but JUSTICE? Puh-lease. Even I disagree with that."

There was an awkward silence.

"Well," sighed Aslan, "I suppose you're right. Still, too late to re-write the script now. On we go!"

As the circlet was lowered onto his head, Edmund sighed. As Peter was crowned "the magnificent," he face-palmed. Ruling this place was evidently going to be a long, hard job.


	6. Chapter 6: The Bachelor

**AN: Hello lovely, loyal reviewers! Sorry this update's been so long coming, argh, I really hate projects... Anyway, this is a Golden Age Chapter, so there isn't a scene that it's based off of. Review, and let me know if you like it or not.**

**Disclaimer time...**

**Edmund: No, no, no, no, no, no. Absolutely not.**

**Me: Fine.**

**Ed: No, I don't ca- wait, what? That's it? ****_Fine?_**** You're not going to exert some terrible revenge on me? **

**Me: I already have...**

**Ed: Huh? *reads the chapter* I hate you. I hate you with every fibre of my being. *collapses.***

**Me: Oh well... enjoy.**

"Peter, what the _hell_?" King Edmund the Sane (as was his official title, after he'd overruled "the Just") stared at his brother the high king in a mixture of hatred, incredulity and disbelief.

"Don't look so surprised, brother dear. As a king of the realm, it is your moral obligation towards your loyal citizens to engage into a matrimony that is beneficial to their nation by providing political security."

"Peter, swallowing the English dictionary does not make you any less stupid. I am _fifteen_!"

"Exactly," snapped Peter, "you've been a King of Narnia for three years, and show no signs of settling down, and it's about time you were wed."

"Peter," said Edmund in his best slow 'my-brother-is-mentally-deficient' voice, "you've been High King for three years too, and you're _eighteen_. Why aren't you married?"

Peter ignore him. "Now don't be difficult, Ed. You're candidates are here!"

"What?"

But before Edmund had time to question his brother further, all the lights went black. A row of three spotlights went up, and under each spotlight was a girl. Edmund looked down at himself, and swore in horror. He was suddenly in a black suit and tie, and a plate with a single rose on it sat in front of him. Peter was carrying a microphone, and now spoke into it. "Well, Edmund. It's time to meet your candidates!"

"My what?" Edmund stared in horror.

The first girl stepped forward. "Hello Eddie..." Edmund winced. Her voice was high, and sing-songy, and sound like she had ingested helium, "my name is Arianianya Topaz Shinyface Mariama Lynne the third, but you can call me Ariana! As you can see, I have a cascade of rich chestnut locks which tumbles down my shoulders like a water fall-"

"Lady, your hair is shoulder-legnth mousy brown, at best!" cried Edmund. Of course, she ignored him.

"My eyes are grey-green-blue, like a stormy ocean in summer, and they reveal the pain and strife I've lived through."

"Those. Are. Contacts," snarled Edmund. He was contemplating decapitating this girl with his sword.

"I've been your best friend for, like, _ever_ and-"

"NO YOU HAVE NOT!" he cried, "I've never met you!"

Still, the girl continued. "I'm haunted by childhood nightmares-"

"Of what, your reflection?"

"about a strange fate I have. We are destined to fall in love, and-"

"No we're bloody well not! God, what the heck Peter?"

As per usual, everyone ignored him.

The next girl stepped forward.

"My name is Leonamoana Frostfairy Narnialady. But call me Leona!" Her voice strange, she sounded like she was trying- and failing- to give a dramatic speech of some sort. "As you can see from my fiery hair and icy eyes, I am the child of Aslan and Jadis-"

"Seriously, they are of different _species_! Are you telling me you're half-lion now, the result of a bestial relationship?"

"But- but- but..." she stammered, "we're supposed to have an epic romance in which our dark sides help us bond, and-"

Edmund slammed his head against the wall.

Finally the third candidate stepped forward.

"Pete..." she whined, "what am I doing here?"

"PETER OCTAVIUS ORION PEVENSIE!" shrieked Edmund in horror, leaping up from his throne, brandishing his sword at his brother in horror, "why the hell is my _little sister _here?"

Peter shrugged. "Give your favourite candidate a rose!"

Edmund picked up the rose, and ripped of its petals one by one. "I- am- done!" he said. "This is it! Oh, and Peter," he glared at his brother, "I hate you. I HATE you!"

Edmund stormed out of the throne room.

"Still," said Lucy, "he would probably have picked me..."


End file.
